He Realized He Loved Her
by Poohdog
Summary: Snapshots of the moments where on some level they knew there was a girl who had their heart. Couple per chapter. So far, Lily/James, Ted/Andromeda, Molly/Arthur, Rodolphus/Bellatrix, Bill/Fleur, Kingsley/Andromeda, Lucius/Narcissa, Cygnus/Druella
1. James & Lily aka Thorn and Buck

**Disclaimer:**** If you recognize it, it's not mine. Presumably. I mean we're not taking into account the whole reincarnation thing but at very least, in this incarnation I do not own Harry Potter in any way, shape, or form and I highly doubt I'd come back reincarnated as the owner anyway. I'd probably end up as something stupid like- right, shutting-up.**

Sirius and Peter were sure that James had loved Lily as soon as he saw her on the train; Sirius even said so at their wedding. Remus disagreed and said it was probably just a gradual thing; he was sure love was a slow thing, determined it could be stopped if there was a good reason. But James knew it was neither. He first realized he loved her during third year when he overheard Severus Snape insisting to her that Remus was a werewolf. She told him that it didn't matter at all. Remus was still nice when he was away from big headed Potter and the master of arrogance Black and he still had poor judgment for hanging out with the so called Marauders. Lycanthropy didn't change a thing. And James loved her because she never let anyone else form her opinions for her; she could have believed in old prejudices but she preferred to belief what she knew. He never told anyone but her what he'd overheard. She'd laughed at him and told him he should have told her sooner what made him fall in love with her. It proved that he acknowledged at the age of thirteen that she had brains.

* * *

She turned around to pass him a paper in Potions not long after he overheard her conversation, not long after he'd begun to see that she was more than some silly girl who was Snape's friend and therefore a prime target for pranks and teasing. For an instant, her eyes caught on his, her brilliant green eyes. He knew in that moment that he loved her for her eyes, even as her expression turned into a glare.

* * *

He was in his fourth year when he first asked her out and was first rejected. He asked her out again two days later and got the same reply. Then he asked a week later and then another three days after that but she still said no. And he realized that while he hated it, he loved her stubbornness. Why else would every failed attempt to ask her out make him want to go out with her all the more?

* * *

It was early fall and he was going to be late for Quidditch practice, not a good thing when he was hoping to be captain next year. His feet clamored against the floor as he ran, broomstick in hand, and then he ran smack dab into Lily as he turned the corner. He apologized before he even looked at who he had run into and offered her his hand to help her to her feet. She said it was all right, still looking down; she had been running too. Then she took his hand. Cliché butterflies began fluttering madly in his stomach as he felt her touch, and he heard her gasp just a little before glaring at him and wrenching her hand back and turning down the hallway again. James stood there frozen in the hallway, staring after her and he knew he loved her for the spark between them.

* * *

He was angry enough to blow his top as he came storming out of the hospital wing and ran straight into Lily. She commanded him to watch where he was going and then stopped, looking at him. A sigh came from her lips and she told him that Severus had told her what had happened. Lily told James thank you. James shook his head and told her that he hadn't done it for Severus who might have died, or Sirius who would have gotten in trouble or even for Remus who would have torn himself apart physically and mentally if the wolf had gotten a taste of human blood. She said she knew it was simply because he had to and that was that; she would have felt the same way, but she still wanted to thank him for saving Severus and Remus. Not of course, she assured him, that she felt any differently about hating him. And James was still sure he loved her as she walked away because she understood what even Sirius hadn't. He'd _needed_ to stop Snape from entering the Shrieking Shack, not simply chosen to do so.

* * *

James sat on his bed with his legs over the edge, his elbows on his knees, and his head in his hands at the end of their fifth year, after O.W.L's. He heard soft footsteps and looked up to see Remus looking at him curiously. Sirius wasn't around which was a relief because as much as he loved Sirius, he had recently started his plan to hook James up with any passing girl. Remus seemed safe to ask why Lily was willing to be friends with someone who called her a mud-blood but wasn't even vaguely willing to be friends with someone like James. Remus asked if James had ever tried to be simply friends with Lily, or just spent all his time asking her out. Then Remus got up from his bed to start packing his trunk but he turned around once more and told James that Lily had told Severus they were no longer friends. And James knew he loved her when instead of feeling total joy for himself, he felt sad that Lily had lost her best friend.

* * *

He was a little bit frightened that if he got to know her, that if she became his friend instead of only his crush, she would become less real. Maybe he would fall out of love with her and she would have been right all along: he only wanted to be with her because he couldn't be with her. She had been dead wrong; his love only grew.

* * *

He was tired as he sat in the common room attempting in vain to finish his Charms homework one night early in their seventh year. Lily was in the common room too, packing up her things to go upstairs. She told him he looked depressed. Half-joking, he told her he'd cheer up if she agreed to go out with him. Lily said yes. He didn't think he'd ever loved her more.

* * *

Their first date was horrible. He'd spilled butterbeer all over her, accidentally admitted that he was terrified of slugs, and informed her that he actually had no intention of playing professional Quidditch, even after the war was over, because he thought far too many of his "spectacular" scores had been made through sheer dumb luck. Miserably he asked her if she would ever consider going out with him again. She kissed his cheek and said yes because he was finally honest. He loved her more knowing that if he talked to her like she was a friend instead of like a girl it would make her like him. He wished he wouldn't have wasted so much time.

* * *

They were working on the Patronus spell in Defense Against the Dark Arts just before Christmas break. He, Sirius, and Peter still didn't have it down. Remus with his talent for Defense and Lily with her talent for Charms had both mastered it relatively quickly. So Sirius had suggested going to the Shrieking Shack to practice and despite Remus's protests, Lily had joined them to help out. He realized he loved her for the fact that she did indeed break rules, because she patiently helped Peter without question, and because she didn't seem afraid or disgusted by Remus even after seeing the place where he transformed and all the carnage therein.

* * *

Somehow, the war made everything move more quickly. They were both in the Order, neither of them were trying to find work outside the Order, they were in love, and James had an inheritance that was quite considerable. It only made sense for him to propose, for them to move in together right after Hogwarts. But he really did love her and he was sure things would have happened the same way, except perhaps a bit slower, if they hadn't been in the middle of a war. And he thought he couldn't have loved her more than when she assured him that she felt exactly the same way.

* * *

He knew he loved her when she announced that she wanted a real wedding. She didn't want to go all out and have hundreds of people but she wanted it to be an event, a statement. She didn't want to show she was afraid. And he agreed with her even before he saw that dart of excitement in her bright green eyes, that spark he had loved since his third year.

* * *

He felt a light tap on his back that he knew was from Lily as he knelt into the flames, talking to Peter. He said good-bye and then pulled out of the fire. She was standing there in a tank-top and what he was fairly sure were his a pair of his boxers. Her eyes met his and she smiled lightly before telling him she was pregnant. And suddenly it didn't matter that he had told Peter he would Floo Sirius. All that mattered was the feeling that he loved the woman in his arms more than life itself and that she was the one having his child.

* * *

For a moment James didn't even realize he was sobbing. It wasn't fair. Harry was only two days old and he was perfect. Dumbledore's face was grave as he told them what he'd unfortunately been expecting since February; his eyes weren't twinkling. He apologized and then left them to themselves. James pulled Lily close, loving her all the more because he knew that it might not be long before one of them was gone. The prophecy was a death sentence for him, his wife, and his newborn son; and he knew it.

* * *

They were exhausted, having just set the Fidelus Charm that day but he was happy. He sat with his back against the foot of the sofa, playing with Harry, watching his young son smile and attempt to grab the smoke, not knowing that only today they had added the last layer of protection to their house, not knowing about the prophecy, only an innocent boy. And James loved Lily because he got to spend small moments like this loving Harry. It was one of the last things he would get to think.

**AN: Right so, this story is basically what the title says. I have some other chapters that I've written for this (four involving the Blacks, surprise, surprise). But I don't know if anyone likes the idea, so let me know. Anyway, have a nice day!**


	2. Ted & Andromeda aka Blood Traitor

**Disclaimer:**** Not mine.**

She was sitting at a table in the library, all alone, reading, a light smile on her face. It wasn't even schoolwork, he could tell that much from the size and color of the book. She didn't realize that she had caught his eye or that he was studying her at the moment more intently than his homework for Potions. At one point, she glanced up, seeming confused by what she was reading and noticed him looking in her direction. She returned to what she was doing without a glare, obviously thinking he was just glancing up for a moment as well. She didn't care about him and to be honest, that was what first made him truly notice her.

* * *

He didn't speak to her. He smiled at her from time to time and she'd smile back out of habit as if she was used to people knowing who she was while she didn't have a clue who they were. It was his personal joke with himself, tricking the pureblood girl into thinking she was smiling in greeting to a friend of one of her sisters or a family acquaintance instead of a muggle-born. She didn't really mean anything to him. But he did think she was beautiful and he loved his game of making a beautiful girl smile. He saw Bellatrix draw stares in class and little Narcissa starting to grab gazes in the halls. But before she even noticed him, he realized he thought Andromeda was the most gorgeous of the three.

* * *

Her fifth year, his seventh, she was a prefect and he found himself patrolling the halls with her, arguing with her. She didn't remember him as the boy who smiled at her and if she ever did later in their life, she never told him. That first time he patrolled the corridors with her, he was certain there was nothing beyond what he had heard about her family: that she was arrogant and self-assured and always "pure". The second time he had no interest in dealing with her; he was worried because his sister had been hurt in a car accident and the last thing he wanted to do was deal with a snarky pureblood. But she told him, genuinely, she was sorry his sister was hurt and remained sympathetic the rest of the night. It took him a few days, and the reassurance his sister was going to be okay, but he began to love the possibility that there was more to her than a snob with an inability to see further than the tip of her nose.

* * *

He wondered at times why he was bothering, why he was telling her things as they patrolled the hallways such as stories about his family and growing up as a muggle. She didn't share very much back other than admitting to having two troublesome, lovable younger cousins which he could have found out by listening to people talk. But then he pushed the line, he teased her, trying to figure out what was bothering her one night, and she spoke, calling him Ted instead of Tonks; telling him her family's nickname for her, Annie; and telling him she wanted to be a healer of all things, though she wouldn't because family ambition was more important than personal ambition and dealing with 'dirty blood' as healers did was considered unsavory. With Andromeda, one had to pay a fee before getting information out and he loved that about her. It was a challenge for knowledge. And he still desperately wanted to know what was bothering her because she hadn't told him what was wrong, and she still looked so sad and he _still_ wanted to make the gorgeous girl smile.

* * *

It was more startling than it should have been to realize he fancied her. He'd always realized he fancied a girl like that, having the idea suddenly pop into his head and then running through a checklist of points to see if he really did like them. And he definitely fancied Andromeda. Dromeda. He came up with the name Dromeda shortly after he realized he liked her as more than a patrolling companion. Because Andromeda seemed too regal, and Annie was too gullible.

* * *

She was logical even when she was illogical. It was wrong for her to like him kissing her, for her to even like him, much less like that he had kissed her. He could see the wheels spinning in her mind, what she wanted versus what she knew would be the smartest thing for her to do. Logically, she should have hexed or slapped him. If she had done the illogical thing she wanted, she would have flung herself into his arms. Instead, she told him to kiss her good-night and they would keep things quiet. Her mind was part like his and in part all her own. And for the moment, he loved that she was his, if only for a second in time.

* * *

Andromeda was completely unaware that she could be a highly difficult person to get along with. She got defensive easily and was often looking for an insult. Arguing about things was practically a comfort mechanism for her; she would pick verbal fights quite often, especially when stressed. She didn't open up easily and filled in her supposed pureblood persona around people she didn't know well by being snarky and aloof. When she was worried, she took on the same aloof air regardless of who she was with. And Ted Tonks kept coming back, kept arguing with her, kept breaking down her standoffishness when she was frightened about her family, kept digging deeper to the caring, passionate witch underneath, the one her fiancé, Rodolphus, would never find. And he knew he must love her to be willing to try, and he must really love her to be able to succeed.

* * *

The reaction he had hoped for when he told her he loved her was not for her to look terrified and sprint away without another word. But that was what he got and he assumed it was over. It hurt like hell to think that it was over but he couldn't reach another conclusion, not after two weeks of no word whatsoever. And then she showed up out of nowhere, showed up when she should have been at school and demanded that he break up with her because she loved him and she couldn't live with herself if she dumped him. He couldn't end it either.

* * *

She was there all the time. That summer between her sixth and seventh years, the summer her parents were abroad, she didn't want to go home very often. It became a common sight for him to come home and find her locked in a chess match with his roommate or laying in a patch of sun streaming from the window reading or once or twice getting frustrated with his sloppiness and doing his laundry. He became aware after a while he was disappointed on the days when he came back from work and she wasn't there; he noticed that he would wait for her and be in a sour mood when he didn't know if she was all right. He realized he loved her enough to want her with him always; he wanted to marry her. It would take him till October to pluck up the courage to ask her.

* * *

She said her last good-byes to Narcissa and her uncle Alphard on the day she and Ted were married. It had been a few months since the fight, since everything had exploded and she had left the family. But the two of them showed up to get closure, and even, Ted liked to think, to give it as well. It was, he knew, as far as possible from the wedding she'd thought she'd have when she was a child. She was wearing a borrowed white skirt, not a new white dress; her two family members didn't even stay for the wedding, only showed up beforehand; she wasn't marrying someone wealthy, only Ted. And she smiled at him and her tone was decisive as she said she'd take him. He loved that he felt chosen even if he wished she'd never had to choose one group of people or another.

* * *

He was twenty-one years old with a wife and six month old baby. They had moved into this new flat yesterday, their third one this year, staying ahead of her family who might come after them if things got too boring on the broader war front. He hadn't seen his family since his daughter was born and knew he wouldn't see them for a while; it was better if they truly had no idea where he was. He took another gulp from the bottle in his hand as he looked out at the lights in the city while he stood on the tiny balcony, barely two feet wide and four feet long. Behind him, he heard the door and Dromeda came out, Dora on her hip. He told her he must love her to have agreed to this. She stole his beer and reminded him, with a smile, that she had given up a large house with house elves for him. He reminded her, as he stole it back, that she had really given all that up so that she would have the opportunity to be a healer, but he grinned as he said it, watching her and Dora. He hadn't lied; he knew he must love her.

* * *

Ted wasn't sure if he had ever felt so guilty for feeling relieved. Andromeda's friend from Hogwarts, Faye Longbottom, had been living with them, hiding with them for the past few months. And they had been found. Dromeda had been at work, Ted was shaken up and hurting, and Dora was trembling with fear until Andromeda had given her a sleeping potion and she had fallen asleep against Ted. And he felt guilty because someone had died tonight, someone he'd known fairly well, and his main thought was how glad he was that it hadn't been one of his girls.

* * *

They had raised a stubborn daughter. Intelligent; outgoing; and in his biased opinion, beautiful; but stubborn as a dragon on a nest. But it brought him endless joy at times that neither Andromeda nor Dora seemed to have figured out that their stubbornness was one and the same. All their mother-daughter fights from Dora's infancy to her twenties were entertaining from an objective view, especially when it was about idiotic things like socks. Neither of them could ever learn to let go. And while he loved them for it at times, it broke his heart in other instances to see them crash. Things and people could be left behind and forgiven but they could never be forgotten; they could always bring heartache.

* * *

He hated to leave, but it was the smart thing to do. He would be safer and Andromeda would be safer. They couldn't keep moving around this time, not when Death Eaters had control of the Ministry. There was no way to live anywhere even semi-permanently and not be found. Apart they would have a greater chance of both making it through this alive. It was one of the rare times Andromeda allowed herself to look weak. He loved her for trusting him enough to let him see her falling apart; he hated that he had a part in making her break.

* * *

When he was captured, he knew he wasn't going home. He'd had luck for far too long, ever since he had first started smiling at a fourteen-year-old witch across the library. But he still wanted to see her one last time, not that it was going to happen, but he could get close. He taunted Rodolphus, teased him until it annoyed Bellatrix too much, until she killed him, looking him in the eyes as she cast the curse. He didn't see her; he saw her eyes. He saw Dora and Dromeda. He knew he was going back to watching from afar, the same as he had in the library long ago. But this time he knew for certain that eventually, she would notice.

**Figured I'd post Ted/Andromeda since that's what I think people wanted to see. Thank you guys loads for reviewing. Hope you like/liked this chapter. Kinda thinkin' I liked the James/Lily chapter better. Anyways, hope you have a swell holiday weekend if it's a holiday weekend for you. If not, well, hope you have a swell non-holiday weekend. **** (Whoa, cool, Microsoft Word does smileys. Really creepy smileys though. I think it's going to attack me. I need to get to bed…)**

**PS, trying a slightly different posting format (lines in between paragraphs/scenes. Let me know, if you don't mind, if you like it better/find it more readable this way as opposed to no lines)  
**


	3. Arthur and Molly

Disclaimer: I don't own the characters, the settings, and majority of the plot so don't sue me please?

He had heard of love at first sight and had brushed it off, laughing at it as a dumb fantasy that only girls had. And then he saw her up in front, her bright red hair catching the candle light as she walked up in the line to be sorted with the other first years. Arthur realized he loved her that moment, though he would never admit what had made him blush, not even to her.

* * *

Talking to her took an amount of courage Arthur didn't have. He watched her across the common room for months as she got picked on by her older brothers, made friends, and occasionally did her homework. When anyone asked, he pretended he hadn't been staring at her. He did everything he could to convince his friends and his brothers that he definitely didn't fancy little Molly Prewett. For a while, he was beginning to convince himself he didn't fancy her, that there was nothing actually there. A simple bump ended that. She ran into him on the way up to her dormitory. A polite smile lit up her face as she excused and introduced herself. He idiotically said something sarcastic and rather mean. She glared at him and headed up the stairs; he hit himself in the forehead and tried not to ask himself why he had said something rude when he would have been polite to anyone else.

* * *

After that, she glared at him every time she saw him in the common room and he felt guiltier with every narrow-eyed gaze. Finally, he couldn't stand it anymore and he walked toward her, already feeling his face heat up and muttered an apology, trying to think of a good excuse but as he still didn't know why he had been rude, the excuse didn't come. She glared at him still, her best glare yet and then said okay before turning away. His brother came up behind him and started teasing Arthur about being in "looove" with Prewett. All Arthur could manage to tell him was to shut-up; he couldn't think of an excuse for his blushing either.

* * *

The first time they really fought, full on letting it out kind of fought, it was over a Hufflepuff girl named Amanda. And Molly yelled at him, a loud, glaring, third-year fireball. He couldn't ever remember the specifics of the argument, just something about how they had become friends over the last year and she shouldn't have been the last to know he had a girlfriend. What he really remembered, was that she seemed jealous. And if she was jealous, maybe, just maybe, she fancied him. And Arthur blushed because he did have a girlfriend and he was only _friends_ with Molly. The convincing seemed weaker and weaker when Amanda broke up with him because of some "vibe" she felt from him when it came to Molly.

* * *

She was more popular than him and at times, he hated it, not that he was a leper himself. He got along with people really well if they hadn't already decided not to like him. But she was popular with the opposite sex. And while they were becoming closer and closer as friends, he found himself glaring across the common room as someone flirted with _his_ Molly. And he blushed for thinking of her as being his. She wasn't his, but he did love her.

* * *

He was wondering how he had never thought to ask his father what to do about crying girls. Then again, perhaps he had and it had suddenly zoomed out of his head. Things tended to do that when Molly was involved: memories, common courtesy, homework assignments due the next day, even the entire English language on occasion. Awkwardly, he tried to hug her and quell the thought that he was holding Molly. He stumbled out that the bloke who'd broken up with her was a jerk, thankfully leaving out that he would be quite willing to go send said jerk to the hospital wing, and then he heard it leave his mouth that he wouldn't do such a thing since he loved her. He could have gotten away with it; he could have said he meant as a friend except for the blush that he felt crawling up his face clear to his ears. Quickly he told her good-night and headed for the stairs. He knew he must have been telling the truth because when he heard her call out his name, he somehow managed to ignore his embarrassment and walk right back toward his Molly.

* * *

Her face was still blotchy from tears, though she had pushed them away. She was standing up, looking at him and he knew he must look like a deformed tomato, his entire face still flaming. His stomach was twisting as she said his name and then something jumped, erasing his rational thoughts and he was standing closer to her than was probably necessary for anything other than what he _was_ doing. He was kissing Molly Prewett. And she was kissing him back.

* * *

There was a sort of order between the two of them, an organization that seemed intended. When one panicked, the other managed to stay calm. Of course people thought it was only him most of the time as the one who stayed tranquil. Molly was more emotional. But she wasn't the one who freaked out when they found out she was pregnant a month before she finished Hogwarts. He loved that she managed to talk him back to composure. And he loved her for Bill.

* * *

Come to think of it, he loved her for all of them. Charlie who they'd intended to have, right on schedule, two years after Bill. Percy was an accident. They'd intended to stop, at least until the war was over but that lack of rational thought he got around Molly and her around him sometimes led to mistakes. After Percy, Molly said she wanted a girl and Arthur agreed; he would like a daughter and they decided to try to have a girl, despite the war. They had Fred and George, followed by their agreed upon final attempt, which ended up another boy, Ron. Ginny had been an oops. They'd never told Bill, Percy, or Ginny they were the accidents but by the way Bill snorted sometimes, Arthur guessed he had done the math. Sometimes it seemed like Percy knew too though Ginny seemed oblivious. He liked it Ginny's way. They may have been accidents but he never wanted them to think of themselves as mistakes; he didn't want to think about his life if even one of them had been missing.

* * *

She was strong and at times he felt like he was the only one who knew it. Somehow she never got knocked down and was always ready to tackle something new. He watched her deal with death until her family: her parents, three brothers, and a sister was knocked down to only one brother and sister; he held her as she cried at night but somehow she was still fighting in the morning to take care of her boys. Money was an issue, but she always kept things going, even when there were nine of them, Ginny in the cradle and Ron starting to walk. He watched as she took in others, first Harry then people in the Order as her own. So he was surprised that everyone else was startled at how she confronted Bellatrix Lestrange in the final battle. Molly was always strongest when protecting the people she loved; Ginny was her own and she had taken in Hermione in the same way. He loved her for it and yet wished she didn't have to be so strong only to hold on.

* * *

It was hard to remember a time before her, before they were two halves of a whole. He wondered for a moment if he loved her because he needed her or if he needed her because he loved her. Then he brushed it aside; it didn't matter. He kept leaning on her and she kept leaning right back, the same as always only sometimes it really was the only thing keeping them standing. There came a point where there was nothing more that could be said, when tears were gone and life had to be lived. And he was leaning on her as much as she was leaning on him as they moved on after the battle, after losing Fred.

* * *

She was self-conscious about her laugh. He found that so amusing; it made him laugh which made her glare. Her older brothers had teased her when she was younger for her laugh, not at all a girly laugh but a full hearted, loud hooting. But he loved her laugh, even if hardly anyone heard it. When she was alone with him she laughed at Fred and George's pranks, Ron and Hermione dancing around each other, Percy's panicking about his wife having twins, the haircut Victore gave Dominque, he could go on for ages naming things. The little things that happened, the things that would end up being good things, amusing things, in the end were the things she laughed at the most. He loved to hear her laugh.

* * *

He died first. To be honest, he was glad he was going first. Living without her would have broken him. He told her he was going first, that he was going to be the brave one for once. She was always the one who was brave and strong. This time, he would be the one to go someplace new first; he would be waiting for her and be able to show her around. She'd fought to smile through tears. And he really wished, for once, he could have been the truly brave one, the one who had to find out what life was like alone. He could take his own pain; it was so much harder to see hers.

**Yes, there is another chapter, finally. I actually do have more of these written (Rodolphus/Bellatrix, Bill/Fleur, etc) but they all require tweaking and then I'll get distracted by something shiny (or more often these days by my summer class which I have finished 1 out of 3 final-eske examinations for (yeah, one class. Darn certification). Anyways, hope you like this chapter and thanks for reading!**


	4. Rodolphus and Bellatrix

Disclaimer: I don't own the characters, the settings, and majority of the plot so don't sue me please?

He loved her at first because he was told to love her. He wasn't even sure how young he had been, obviously at least two because she was two years younger than him. But he knew he loved all three of the Black girls because it was expected that as a pureblood he admire them, fancy that he was in love with them. They had pure blood, they had money, they had a good family for the most part, and they were beautiful.

* * *

When he was seventeen, he made the reckless decision that he loved Bellatrix the most. It wasn't something he should have done; after all he was less than three months engaged to her next younger sister, Andromeda. But Bella was fifteen and bored, and he was seventeen and still assured by his society that he was in love with all three of them. Sweet Merlin where had she learned how to move like that? With his mind in a hormonal rage, he thought he loved her most of the three Black sisters.

* * *

Take me to him, she'd demanded, still a young, fiery thing. She was only seventeen. He was nineteen. And he looked into those insistent grey eyes as she leaned closer and closer to him. He hesitated. She dropped into his lap and he swallowed as she began to wiggle in a way that she had to know would get a response. She asked Rodolphus to take her to him again, this time her voice in a purr. Fine he agreed and suddenly she was off his lap. She insisted on going right then and couldn't be distracted or otherwise persuaded, especially not by Rodolphus's sudden desire or embarrassment. But she promised a reward if he took her now. And as he grabbed her arm to direct her apparition, he realized he loved her because she kept her mind on what she wanted and how to get it; at the same time, he hated her for the exact same thing.

* * *

He watched her kill someone, a muggle, as cold air blew through Macnair's house from the January winter. The Dark Lord had commanded that Bellatrix be the one to kill her, the old, nosy muggle; Bellatrix needed to prove herself. Rodolphus's eyes followed her, this girl who had just turned eighteen, remembering how he had quaked the first time he had been commanded the same thing. But she didn't shiver in the slightest. Only the slight tremble in her voice registered any conflict in her mind; he couldn't see her eyes. The old woman fell and Bellatrix looked up and he saw her eyes full of guilt mixed with pleasure. And he knew he loved her for her dedication to the cause, dedicated enough to find pleasure in the guilt.

* * *

Bellatrix was a delightfully physical creature and he realized sharply how much he loved her for it. Her sister Andromeda was not. But he had tried to move beyond his feelings for Bellatrix, tried to find the passion that must lie within her younger sister, the one he was supposed to marry. She fought him as he struggled for even a kiss after a dinner during her Christmas break. Her words of commandment, however, were for her younger cousins, imploring him to leave them alone when they tried to jump to her defense; she was using them as her excuse to get away and they both knew it. He realized as this brunette girl with Bellatrix's eyes skittered away from him, buttoning her robes where he had managed to force them open, that he loved her older sister for being physical where Andromeda was not.

* * *

Her hair was mussed, her robes weren't buttoned right, and her face was flushed. If he squinted, he really could pretend that he was looking at Bellatrix. But again, Andromeda pushed him away. It infuriated him. She had obviously been with someone though she kept denying it. As much as she looked like Bellatrix, why couldn't she have her sister's honesty? Bellatrix never lied about another man; Andromeda did. He gave up on his ambition to love Andromeda like he loved Bellatrix then and there.

* * *

Her scream echoed through the Black's dining room as her eyes grew unfocused. Lucius looked terrified, Rabastan looked amused, and Bellatrix looked wild. Narcissa was yelling at her oldest sister to stop. Bellatrix ignored her so it was Narcissa who sent a stunner at Andromeda. The Cruciatus Curse would work on a sleeping victim but not one who was knocked unconscious. The mind needed to be working at a higher level than completely unresponsive. Bellatrix still looked furious and Rodolphus understood her fury. He couldn't imagine what he would resort to if he found out Rabastan had chosen a mudblood. He glanced down at the ground, at the pale version of Bellatrix, the bookworm brunette, and knew he would never love her again. He realized he loved Bellatrix and her wildness. And he finally had a way to get Bellatrix instead of Andromeda.

* * *

Their wedding day Bellatrix was calm and quiet. She was neither sad nor happy. She was only there. And he realized he wanted her all the more, loved her all the more because he had to make her love him.

* * *

He tuned out of the trial until he heard her voice. Even then as they were sentenced to remain without magic, without hope, without a life, she stuck to the cause. She reminded Crouch that the Dark Lord would come back. And he knew he loved her, as always, for her fire. But a part of him wondered if she would stay just as loyal to him. He knew the answer was no; the Dark Lord was the only one she loved with all her heart; even her sisters had fallen away.

* * *

The Dementors had gone away for some reason. He couldn't figure out why and he sank down on the ground, calling out names in an attempt to find one that sounded familiar, one he thought might belong to him. And then he saw her, his angel in gray robes with dark hair wild about her face. She was a figure from a dream, a good dream perhaps that he'd had long ago. She had a name as well but it wasn't Rodolphus. No, that was his name he decided as she led him out the door. He followed dumbly, unable to comprehend what she was saying, just knowing he was in love with the angel who had rescued him and was leading him to the Dark Lord who had rescued her.

* * *

She told him about her distrust of Severus Snape, how she had followed Narcissa to where that traitorous half-blood lived to watch her sister beg and plead with him. He watched her roll her eyes in disgust at her younger sister's actions. Rodolphus didn't dare ask what Narcissa was asking Snape for; he knew well enough that Bellatrix would think it disloyal for him to even ask what the Dark Lord had not revealed to him personally. But he agreed with her about Snape on all of her points, agreed with her where apparently the Dark Lord didn't. And for one night, she loved him as he thought she would if he were truly her husband in anything more than law. He realized he loved her the most when he held all of her affections in his pocket and he hoped he would get all of her again, but he knew he wouldn't. The Dark Lord was all she truly cared about. He was only a substitute for the night.

* * *

It was her job to clean up the mistakes in her family but the Dark Lord had given the mudblood to him, had told him to take care of the creature that had stolen the other Black sister, stolen Andromeda, from him. But the filthy creature began to speak, his eyes narrowed. Rodolphus recognized the tone. The man was manipulating him and yet he felt himself being pulled forward, like a cat inching toward a string he knew would be pulled away as soon as he pounced. He was reminded by Andromeda's husband that the mudblood in front of him was the only one who had gotten one of the Black sisters to fall in love with him, reminded him that he didn't even have chance at getting Bellatrix on his own. The filth was taunting Rodolphus. He was offering to help, that was the string in front of him, but Bellatrix grew tired of their dance. She jumped in and killed Ted Tonks while Rodolphus dealt with the fact that even a mudblood had known he loved Bellatrix and that she had yet to truly love him back.

* * *

The Dark Lord had told her to prune her family tree and there would be no stopping her. It ran through her head like a list. There was Sirius, who she had killed two years before. The mudblood who had soiled her sister's line was gone. Now all that remained was the girl her sister had given birth to, the one Bellatrix had tried to kill three times before, the girl who kept slipping through her fingers. What had to be done, had to be done. They were running by on an upper story during the Battle at Hogwarts and for once Bellatrix did not "play with her food". The girl fell probably without even realizing someone had shot the killing curse at her. Rodolphus smiled. Andromeda had fallen in love and married someone but Rodolphus, someone besides her promised fiancé, and now all the ties to the life Andromeda had chosen were severed. Bellatrix had killed her niece for the Dark Lord and her own, personal pride. But he loved that he could imagine it was for him as the pink slid from the girl's hair.

* * *

He was back in a cell in Azkaban but there were no Dementors this time. The Minister had gotten rid of them though no one ever told him how. He wasn't exactly updated on the news. And the boy walked by, only a teenager, about eighteen perhaps and he was looking around, looking around with those grey eyes Rodolphus remembered so well. Rodolphus, who had been at the back of his cell, once again on a streak of trying to refuse food and contact for weeks, was drawn forward, staring at the boy. The boy looked away nervously. Someone called the boy's name and he hurried away as Rodolphus dropped to the ground and howled. He knew he loved her because it had been eighteen years since she had died and he was crying for her because she hadn't finished her mission; they had called for a Lupin, a Teddy Lupin who had had the same eyes as his mother, his grandmother, and his great-aunt.

**So this one's a little creepier… okay a lot creepier. I wrote Rodolphus as slightly obsessive but that's how I wrote him (or at least how he was in my mind) in The Call and this does follow right along with that story so Rodolphus stayed the same. I also wanted to play with the idea of a more one-sided love. Someday maybe I'll have the courage to write one of these for Snape/Lily. Anyway, have a happy Labor Day weekend and if you don't have a free Monday, well then have a happy weekend!**


	5. Bill and Fleur

If I owned Harry Potter, trust me, I wouldn't be bothering with writing scholarship essays.

The first time he saw her was in a newspaper picture and his comment had bordered on lewd and Charlie had laughed like crazy. Charlie had come down to Egypt when they both had a free weekend and Bill had a copy of the Daily Prophet. Mum had told them both about her concerns for Harry and that really wasn't a subject of discussion at the time; they weren't in the mood to talk about anything even vaguely deep. What had been brought to attention, however, was the one witch who was competing as the Beauxbaton champion. Bill found her attractive, no doubt, but he'd moved on to other topics soon. After all, what were the chances he would meet the girl anyway?

* * *

She was interested in him. He knew it from her gaze and he was by no means opposed. After all, she was highly attractive; there was no doubting that. And she was looking at him. Had things turned out differently he might have asked her out that night but when Harry returned with the goblet and the body of Cedric Diggory, all of that had been pushed from his mind. Had things turned out differently, there might never have been more than one night. It was the only good thing he could think about in correlation to You-Know-Who and he never admitted it to anyone.

* * *

There was a war. Suddenly You-Know-Who was back and Bill had to be serious. He came back from Egypt, permanently. He wanted to be closer to his family; he wanted to fight this time. Unlike the first war, he wasn't a child; he didn't have to stay-put and be a 'good boy'. But there she was at Gringotts and he found himself staring at her far too often; that was no surprise really. Almost every male stared at one point or another. But he also realized he was staring for more than that. She was confident; wolf whistles, snide remarks from goblins, laughs at her speech, she moved passed them all, ignoring them or dealing with them but without becoming shy or insecure for a second. And he loved it from afar.

* * *

He waited a month before he asked her out, far more than most of his human, male coworkers who asked her out within a week. He was the first and only one she said yes to with a snide look on her face that clearly said she had known he was going to break down and ask her eventually. Bill had hated that look; it drove him mad. He intended to keep the one date out of courtesy and then never ask her out again; besides, he doubted they had much in common. But then she turned out to be smart and genuinely interested in his talk about Egypt and she really did seem sweet when she talked about her family and her sister. And he began to wonder if he had indeed hated the look she'd given him; maybe he had actually loved being driven insane. She asked him for help learning English and he'd agreed, even if half the time the lessons ended in a date setting.

* * *

She joined the Order slightly before Christmas of 1995 and for some reason he could not explain, she became jealous of Tonks because of him, not that he'd ever felt anything for Tonks or Tonks for him. But in truth, he didn't really dislike her envy. Up until then, he'd been wondering if he were only a fling or a way for her to get higher up at Gringotts or into the Order. After all, she'd never, in nearly six months of dating brought up the talk of "what are we doing?" nor "are we exclusive?" So after that day, he'd brought it up; he'd asked her to be his girlfriend and his alone. She agreed and for some reason, he found himself tremendously happy to be "tied down". He began to wonder if maybe, just maybe, he loved this girl more than he'd loved any previous girlfriends.

* * *

His father was attacked and Bill spent the night at St. Mungos with his mother, pacing and praying everything would be fine. He stayed for the morning while his mother went back to tell his siblings everything would be okay. He came into work late and within five minutes Fleur found him and threw herself into his arms, a full embrace as if he had been buried in snow for a month and needed to be warmed. Bill found himself muttering into her hair over and over again that his dad was going to be fine as he pulled her tighter because he needed to hear himself say it; he needed to know his father, the man he looked up to most in the world was going to be okay. And Fleur let him repeat himself; she told him she knew without a hint of annoyance or boredom every time he insisted his dad was okay, still not letting her go. She was there, and he loved her for that.

* * *

He told her he loved her in January. It was startling to realize he'd never said that to a girl before (his mother and Ginny not withstanding). He was far too chivalrous to say it when he didn't know for sure he meant it. And his heart was pounding like crazy in those few moments when she kissed him instead of saying it back. She pulled away and smiled and said she loved him too. He loved her even more than he had two minutes before.

* * *

Never was he entirely sure when he started thinking of the two of them together permanently, when talking about plans for a year from now became as normal as talking about plans for Thursday, when the first idea of having kids of his own struck him as having her eyes and nose. But he did know when he _realized_ he was thinking about loving her always because he proposed the next day. She said yes. His mother wasn't thrilled but then, Bill hadn't liked her for a while either.

* * *

It was her idea to spend time at the Burrow between their engagement and the wedding. Bill doubted it would go over well even though both his parents agreed. And it wasn't as if he didn't see that his mother was annoyed and that Ginny started plotting to set him up with Tonks instead. He knew Ron and to a lesser extent Fred and George swooned over Fleur. But Fleur wanted to get to know his family and he respected that; he loved that. So he didn't protest and he did what he could to help her stay there.

* * *

Radiant. Bill didn't use words like radiant unless he wanted something but that was how Fleur really did look walking down the aisle. She was so bright in his eyes that he couldn't see anyone else. Her eyes met his as she was still walking and he didn't even feel the same anymore. He felt as if he'd been replaced by a superhero version of himself from one of Charlie or Ron's old comic books. He was super-Bill, unhurt, unscarred, always brave, brilliant defender. And Fleur and her radiance were the source of his power. She smiled at him, standing less than two feet away; the source of his power and his greatest weakness but then wasn't love always both? His last coherent thought for a while after that was that he had certainly turned out very sappy.

* * *

Victoire was the most gorgeous baby he'd ever seen and Bill justified this by thinking he'd seen a lot of babies. On top of six younger siblings, he also had fourteen first cousins, majority of them younger than him. Or was it fifteen? Regardless, Victoire, who came into his life screaming bloody murder until she finally figured out she needed to breathe in order to cry, was indeed gorgeous, even more so than Dominique and Louis later were. Because at only a few hours old Victoire did what Bill thought was impossible; she made his mother smile on the day she'd lost Fred, made his father genuinely happy on May 2nd. And he knew he loved Fleur because she was the reason he had any claim to the most beautiful baby alive.

* * *

Dominique was her mother's child even if she was also Fleur's exact opposite. She looked the most like Fleur to begin with. Nickie was the one who got the blonde hair and Fleur's eyes and face; she was also the one who cut off most of her hair the first moment she was away from home. Both mother and daughter were highly confident, though Nickie hated her looks and prized her Quidditch and school skills while Fleur had no flying ability and prized her looks and school skills. But every time he saw Dominique or read a letter from her or even heard something about her, he was reminded of Fleur. He loved them both to death.

* * *

Fleur wanted a boy but Bill wanted a third girl. He'd seen enough of little boys growing up; he still had most of his brothers nearby. He was fine with having the singular Y chromosome inside Shell Cottage (not counting the stray puppy Victoire had dragged in). But then there was Louis, and Bill knew he loved him as much as his older sisters. Louis was the one who made them all laugh, who teased Victoire and Nickie instead of only getting into fights with them. He tracked in mud and wanted to wrestle and went around starting games of superhero and dueling. The few times Bill ever remembered that he had wanted a third girl, Fleur would shoot him that "I knew better" look that he had both loved and hated since before their first date. And he loved that she was right. Louis had been their family's missing piece.

* * *

They moved to France after Louis got a job and a place of his own. And Bill missed home. He wanted to see his brothers and his parents. He missed having his children randomly stop by the house as he had done to the Burrow for years. But he knew he loved Fleur and that she wanted to be here with her own parents and sister for a while so he didn't say anything and tried to hide it. His disguise didn't work very long before she remarked on it. She knew. He loved that she knew. But they didn't move back.

* * *

She still turned heads. Men stared at her everywhere she went and good God when she was out with Gabrielle, there wasn't a man between the ages of seven and a hundred seventy who didn't stop and look. And Bill got the a look nearly every time, that look wondering how he, the tall, gangly, scarred, greying ginger had possibly gotten the woman he was walking down the streets of Paris with, the one who let him slide his hand onto her bum as they walked. God he loved that smug feeling it gave him.

* * *

He was back for Ginny's funeral when it happened. There was pressure and he couldn't breath but he hardly thought it would be the death of him, not until the last moment, that last moment where all he could see was Fleur leaning over him, her blue eyes wide with worry, as clear to him as they had been before the wrinkles and lines of age. She called his name but it wasn't sad, only letting him know she was there. She told him no one left a Veela. It was the last thing he heard. She died a little over a week later of pneumonia.

**Guess what, guess what? I finally updated. Sorry about that. It's been a hectic year so far. Just a little bit of warning for anyone who wants it, don't take analytical chemistry unless you absolutely and I mean ABSOLUTELY have to. This semester=head explosion= statistics + chemistry + unhealthy amount of precision. Anyway, sorry, I'm done complaining.**

**At any rate, hope you enjoyed this chapter. I'm not sure I succeeded in keeping Bill and Fleur in character. I don't much like writing them; they're hard for me. I like Victoire though. Probably because I like Teddy… Anyway, hope your Halloween was neato, or wicked, or whatever-your-costume-apply-appropriate-adjective-here.**

**Oh, to anyone doing NaNo this year. Good luck, you're awesome, and I'm sure there's a therapist hotline out there for you somewhere. Remember you have friends and family that love you; they may not be more important than your deadline but, you know, they like to be remembered (though often not to be the villains or first to die in your novel. Just sayin')  
**


	6. Kingsley and Andromeda

**If I owned Harry Potter, you surely would have seen it in the newspaper or online or something. Needless to say, I do not own Harry Potter.**

It had been his first real battle as an Auror apprentice. He was an eighteen-year-old kid in reality and he was doing everything in his power to keep his calm like he had always done when he was injured in school. But this hurt so much worse. He couldn't help the tears that were running to his eyes. A young sounding voice commanded him to drink something and he gulped it down. The pain immediately seemed to go away. He slurred that he loved her before he passed out on the bed in the ward of Spell Damages where she was a trainee.

* * *

He felt sick at the thought of someone going so wrong. How could someone betray his own best friend knowing it would lead to death? He apparated with his partner into a broken down looking muggle town with the November night still pressing around them. They were trying to find Sirius Black before he did something more dangerous while the rest of the wizarding world rejoiced the fall of Voldemort and Kingsley was part of a duo sent to interview his family. She was waiting for them at the door, her arms crossed over her chest, and she asked them what they wanted. She had been one of the Blacks, he could see that. Her eyes were grey and she had the same nose and face. But it seemed obvious she wasn't involved in the Dark Arts. After all, she was a healer and her house was not scattered with anything dark or scary but rather the evidence of a family living with a child. He loved her because she gave him hope that even after the complete turn around of Sirius Black, there was still someone good in every family.

* * *

Tonks, the girl said her name was as she was first brought in as Moody's trainee. He'd exchanged a grin with a couple of other Aurors as she walked away with Mad-Eye. None of Mad-Eye's trainees had lasted through the first year; Tonks did. She was stubborn enough, smart enough, and practical enough. He grew to love that girl like a baby sister. And he loved her mother in an awestruck sort of way because only one generation back, the relatives of Moody's trainee were Death Eaters. It took some sort of power to make that much change in one generation.

* * *

Andromeda had brains. He'd always known she had brains if he was honest. After all, not many people managed to become Healers without a good mind. But her brains extended beyond healing. She looped him into saying Tonks was in the Order the day after the battle in the Department of Mysteries, as she worried over her daughter who was in a hospital bed. Her mind followed a path of logic that as a Ravenclaw, he had to admire. He loved her mind at the same time he found himself cursing it.

* * *

He wanted to see the baby. The idea came into his head one day and he had to see him but being Minister for Magic meant the only time he found a moment was at ten at night about two and a half weeks after the final battle. She let him in anyway, let him hold Teddy. For a moment he remained in Minister-mode and was about to tell Andromeda how lovely her grandson was and how sorry he was for her loss. But then Teddy opened his eyes and Kingsley saw Tonks and Remus, he saw Sirius, Mad-Eye, Dumbledore, and everyone, everything that had been lost. For the first time after the final battle, he started to cry. Hard, pounding sobs that made his entire body shake. He was stressed and hurting but he hadn't had five seconds to think about that, not while being Minister. Andromeda didn't say a word, didn't look at him as if she were confused or pitying. She gently took Teddy in her arms so the baby didn't get shaken and sat down next to Kingsley, seeming to barely notice him at all except when she handed him a handkerchief. She was only there in the barest of senses and that was what he needed. He loved her for it.

* * *

She had a gift for public silence. He could tell her anything and trust that it wouldn't turn up in the Daily Prophet or the gossip mill. He found himself at her house many nights only talking like he couldn't around anyone else. She wasn't silent; she would object or agree or sometimes flat out argue. But she was there and he realized he loved her as the best friend he had left anymore. He needed her and she needed him. He needed someone to listen; she needed someone to talk about something other than her grief.

* * *

Molly had been trying to push them together for months, hinting that they would be good together. Molly goaded him into seeing Andromeda home after a strange grouping at the Burrow, one of those connected to the Order that just happened sometimes. He leaned forward and kissed her in front of her door, half expecting to be rejected. She kissed him back and smiled lightly when he pulled away. There was a glint in her eye as she told him that Molly would be scandalized to know about this. He loved that after everything she still had a sarcastic sense of humour. Not to mention, she was far from a bad kisser, even with a sleeping two-year-old on her hip.

* * *

Straight out, she had warned him that she'd never been with anyone but Ted. At first, he had figured that meant she was in-experienced but he came to realized that wasn't what she was warning him about. She couldn't bear to have him fall asleep in the same bed as her because- well she never really told him why but he got the message that it had something to do with Ted. And he knew he loved her because he didn't press the issue. Love was a very different game when dating a friend and a widow than it was when he was younger and dating women who were more interested in scoring a husband.

* * *

She was the perfect girlfriend for the minister, he realized. Somehow or another, she had mastered the trick of saying very little around reporters while at the same time making it seem like the one vague thing she had said was quite profound. She was gorgeous without being a trophy wife candidate (in actuality she was three years older than him), smart, and in possession of an in-suspiciously clean nose. And he realized he loved the fact that they were so easily deceived into thinking that her ancestors, her sisters, and her daughter's marriage were the most interesting things about Andromeda; that she herself was dull as dirt. He loved the fact that she was not anywhere near the word dull.

* * *

It was a cold day in January one year when he went looking for her. He'd managed to slip away and he knew Harry had Teddy because Teddy had told him excitedly that his godfather was going to let Teddy help paint Harry and Ginny's baby's room. But Andromeda was nowhere to be found. He was beginning to get worried when he finally found her at Grimmauld Place, just standing in the dining room alone, her robes pulled off, leaving her only in an undershirt, her arm bent backwards to touch a scar that was on her back. For a moment he thought about asking her if her family's insanity was finally getting to her but instead he asked where the scar was from. He realized in four years of dating he'd never seen her scars because she always turned the lights off and drug his hands away from them. She told him how she had gotten them, some on the night she had left this house and some as things built up before then. And he knew why she'd never let him near her scars. They were the marks that she had loved Ted enough to leave her family. But he realized he loved her all the more for her scars, for her differences from the family she had been born to. Nonetheless, he let them remain hidden even after that night because he knew that thinking about Ted now caused her just as much joy and pain as choosing Ted over her own family had caused her years ago.

* * *

They weren't moving anywhere and he knew it. His relationship with her now that Teddy was seven was the same as it had been when the boy with three. He had watched with her as the Weasley family began to get married and procreate while they stood still. Vaguely he wondered if he ought to ask her to move in with him or, probably better since he was Minister, ask her to marry him. But he loved her too much to want to be rejected, even if he didn't really want to be married to her. It wasn't that they didn't love each other, or that they wouldn't have gotten along fine. But who wanted to marry someone who had already found their soul mate and wasn't really looking for another? She was stringing him along for companionship and he was consenting. He realized he loved her enough, loved being with her enough, to never pop the question.

* * *

He told her there was someone else he fancied, someone else he wanted to be with besides her. The image of Caroline crossed his mind as the words came to his mouth. It was a night when Teddy was eight and the boy was staying with Harry. She leaned forward, kissed him on the cheek, told him it was fine, and asked if he wanted some tea. That was how they made the glide from lovers back to friends. She was a Slytherin and she wanted what she wanted. At that moment he loved her for knowing that he wasn't what she really wanted and letting it slip away. What she wanted romantically was Ted. She wasn't going to mope over Kingsley as long as they could still be friends.

* * *

He realized, with dread one day, that he was going to have to tell Caroline that he was still very good friends with his most recent ex. Things were bound to get crazy if he didn't tell her that he still saw Andromeda at least once a week. There wasn't really any romantic feeling there. They had faded to platonic quite easily. He was there so they could talk and so he could see Teddy who he had grown to love like a close nephew since he had first held him as a baby. But how could he possibly explain their relationship to someone who hadn't watched it grow? It was a relationship born out of mutual grief and a desire to talk about anything but the ones they'd lost. So he'd begun to tell her but Caroline cut him off. Andromeda had written her a letter some time back and explained everything already, in such a way as Kingsley would have never managed. Caroline said she was okay with it, she understood the romantic relationship had been the loosest bond between them. And Kingsley loved Caroline for being understanding and being his and letting the romantic bond not be the weakest one between them; and he loved Andromeda for wanting him to be happy.

* * *

She came to his wedding with ten-year-old Teddy and she smiled at him and genuinely wished him happiness. She gave Caroline a brief hug and wished her the same thing. And it was only awkward because it should have been but in a second, Kingsley had wiped that away. He spent most of the rest of the night seeing only Caroline, only really noticing Andromeda once more to laugh as George tried to dance with her in his intent to dance with every girl at the wedding while Angelina rolled her eyes and laughed at George. Kingsley knew he still loved her as his best friend but there was nothing more. He wanted her to be happy but somehow he knew there would never be another man she gave much time to.

* * *

She told him she was dying as a statement of fact. She had gotten sick and she couldn't fight it; she didn't want to fight it. Teddy was grown and married. Kingsley knew without her saying that now that she was sure her grandson was okay, she wanted to let go. There was no one else she had told; she asked Kingsley for a favour, for him to keep looking after Teddy and make sure he knew she'd let go willingly. But she didn't want to tell Teddy right then. He was too young to understand wanting to let go; he'd try to make her hold on. And Kingsley kissed her forehead and promised. Because he'd love her until the day he died and maybe even beyond then. She was his best friend, nothing more, and perhaps more importantly, nothing less. He made sure she was comfortable for the night and told her to have fun with Ted and to tell everyone else hello for him, including that pink-haired pixie daughter of hers. And for the first time since the end of the war, not a bit of sadness entered her eyes when he mentioned the people she'd lost. That night, after he'd left, Andromeda Tonks went back to the man she had always loved more than him.

* * *

**I admit, this one is a little different. It still ends in death (because I'm finding it's very difficult to end these NOT in death) but I tried not to have the ending be quite so depressing. And it's not a canon couple. Or the type of love story that inspire ballads. It's a second love.**

**Sorry for dropping off the face of the Earth for a while. This summer was… eventful-ish. Hopefully I'll be better at updating this semester but no promises.**


	7. Lucius and Narcissa

**Harry Potter still belongs to JKR and WB. I can assure you, no one ever refers to me by my initials (although oddly enough, they start with J and end with B).**

Lucius for Narcissa

He loved her most from the beginning. She was the only one of the Black sisters who was younger than him and the prettiest of the three. Of course ending up with any of them would have been good at that point, blood wise, but he liked Narcissa the best. He was happy to learn his parents and hers wanted them to be married, not that it would have been frowned on if either of them said no. But she never protested.

* * *

The night Rodolphus found out Andromeda had been consorting with a mudblood, Lucius was at the Black house as well. The girls' parents weren't; they were gone for the summer, but Bellatrix and the Lestranges had said they wanted to speak with him so he'd come. He'd listened to what they had to say about the Dark Lord but had been unable to give them an answer, not then, not yet. He was only sixteen. But he had watched when Andromeda came home from her rendezvous with the mudblood, watched the fight with her older sister, watched the Cruactus curse be placed on her. That was what won him over really; he didn't like seeing the price for not following the rules and he didn't want anyone to doubt that he certainly didn't want mudbloods in among true wizards. But sometimes he wondered how his life would have gone if he'd had been able to see a way out as Narcissa had: she knocked Andromeda unconscious to get her away from the pain.

* * *

She never fell apart. There were rumours, behind her back, that she was about to break, that she had to, but she didn't. Her sister was removed from the family tree that winter and officially married the mudblood over Easter break. But Narcissa stayed calm and if it weren't for people talking, no one would have ever known something had changed. He loved that he would never have to worry about her being clingy and crying like some of his friends would have to worry about their wives. He stuck with her, even though the story of Andromeda's leaving gave him a good excuse to protest and leave.

* * *

She genuinely seemed happy to marry him. Their wedding was a grand affair, a statement that they had no reason to fear the Dark Lord although Lucius knew well that as brilliant as the Dark Lord was, he was certainly an entity to fear. But she smiled through the whole thing and giggled slightly, blushing and covering her mouth when she did, making many of their female relatives chuckle and pat her on the head for being such a sweet girl. It was nice to be loved, Lucius decided, and he beamed right along with her.

* * *

Every time he came home from a meeting, she was there. She never said anything and the few times he'd tried to she had stiffened and frowned disapprovingly and he learned quickly not to talk. But she took care of his injuries as best she could and sent the house elf after food for him before sending Lucius to bed. And he loved that he had someone to care for him.

* * *

People were starting to talk. They had been married for four years and no one could think of any reason for them not to have a child. In these times, it would have been wise for them to start having children right away. So there were rumours flying about one or both of them being infertile and as much as he pretended these rumours were idiotic, Lucius was beginning to wonder. They had never really tried but they had never tried not to get pregnant. It was a month after these rumours were starting that Narcissa told him she was expecting. He had been fully relieved.

* * *

The first time he saw her cry, really cry, not the like tears she had let slide gracefully down her face at her father's funeral, Lucius had been married to her for five years. It was the day after Draco was born and she started to sob that she didn't want Draco to be like her. Lucius had been startled to say the least, first and foremost because she was crying but secondly because why would it be bad for Draco to be like her? She was perfect and he tried to comfort her by telling her so but this didn't seem to help in the slightest. It was her mother who comforted her and scooted him out of the room telling him that Narcissa's emotions were only resetting themselves after the birth and all would be well. The door shut in his face and Lucius found himself loving Narcissa for normally keeping him out of things pertaining only to witches.

* * *

He was grateful when the first war ended. It seemed stupid and he wished it had ended because they had won, but he was grateful. No longer would he be torn away at a moments notice. He would no longer find himself facing death, danger, and pain on regular basis. Proving himself would no longer be a day to day activity. So he was happy but Narcissa told him to keep that to himself except when speaking with the Ministry. And then she kissed him and he knew she understood, despite her warning. He loved her for understanding.

* * *

Draco was fourteen when he came home over Christmas break and asked who Andromeda was. Someone at school had apparently mentioned something, aiming an insult at Draco, and Draco's only possible reply had been to glare at the other boy. He was frustrated beyond belief that there was someone he might be related to and he had no idea; Draco prided himself on knowing things. Narcissa told him that Andromeda was a good half of the reason that Draco was still an only child. Draco had asked what the other half was and Narcissa had scolded him for barging into things that were none of his business. Lucius remembered sitting there with Draco when Narcissa left the room feeling as clueless as his son. After twenty years of marriage there were still things, big things, he didn't know about his wife. And he wasn't sure if he loved it or hated it.

* * *

She never took the mark. Not anytime during the first war and not when the Dark Lord returned. Her sister could never persuade her. She didn't want it. And secretly he was grateful. He loved Narcissa and he loved her whole. He didn't want her to do as he had; he didn't want her to become a killer.

* * *

He never did know what happened when he was gone. The Dark Lord allowed him to suffer in Azkaban for a while, a game between punishing Lucius and making sure the Ministry knew the Dark Lord's power to release any of his servants. And Narcissa hadn't changed. He came back from Azkaban and the painful hours of making his apologies to the Dark Lord for his mistake. She found him immediately and treated him as before, wordlessly other than a few questions of what hurt and how. And then she hugged him tightly and kissed him hard, letting him know she had missed him. He loved her for missing him.

* * *

That last year was torture, slowly. He was still paying for his mistakes and Draco was paying for the fact that Snape had killed Dumbledore instead of Draco, even if Draco had found a way to get Death Eaters into the castle. But of course, no one ever dared bring that up. The Dark Lord had judged Snape as the one who had killed Dumbledore and Draco as merely the coward who hadn't managed it in time. And Lucius was desperate for any way to get back into the Dark Lord's favour. Draco and Narcissa, they didn't seem to understand, didn't seem to get that regaining his favour would let them have their lives back. But Narcissa played along anyway, and she made Draco play his part too. And he loved her for that, even if he couldn't understand why she had to act at all.

* * *

It ended in one night. One long, painful night ended the war, everything. And it was Narcissa's actions that kept them from falling with everyone else. She had sided with them in the end; or perhaps not sided but stopped objecting to the other side and it had won them freedom after the war. He loved her for her freedom.

* * *

Draco had a son and Lucius was proud. So many of the pureblood families had died out yet his had not. His wife had given him a son and that son had yet another son to pass on the name, the line. He loved Narcissa for helping him continue his line even as the line of the Blacks lay long dead in the dust.

* * *

At the end, he was worried about her. He was dying before her and it made sense when the Healer told him his body had been put under so much strain; he wasn't close to a hundred yet. He had barely reached his sixties. But she didn't weep and moan on as she could have done. She cried, yet another of the rare times he saw her cry, but it wasn't anything close to the sobbing she had done after Draco's birth. And he loved her for staying put together; he hoped, perhaps later in another life, he would manage to understand her.

**No, I didn't make Lucius all that deep of a character. He could be, I suppose but I've got the impression that Draco turned out like his mother who is deep, though Narcissa wanted him to be like his father, who takes things at face value.**


	8. Cygnus and Druella

**I don't own anything really, especially not Harry Potter.**

**This one is Cygnus Black for Druella Black nee Rosier (the parents of Bellatrix Lestrange, Andromeda Tonks, and Narcissa Malfoy).**

The Rosier's were traditional. Very traditional as in arranged marriages. Sure, Cygnus was used to them within a family. His sister Walburga and his best friend Orion, who was also his 2nd cousin, were promised in the same way. But the Rosier's were like that even for marriages outside the family. And Cygnus wanted to focus on his studies more than finding a girl at school so his father had jumped at the opportunity. There were three Rosier girls; Cygnus could have one of them. So he sat awkwardly in the room, listening to his father and her father talk, his eyes glancing toward the door. To the side he saw two girls gossiping and a third, as blonde as the other two, roll her eyes and walk away. He realized he was glad he was being fixed together with the one closest to his age, the youngest, the one who could find better things to do with her time, Druella.

* * *

He loved her because she didn't run. His brother messed up, became disgusting, associated with a mudblood in a way no proper wizard ought to. And Cygnus knew their whole family was going to have to pay the consequences, whether they ever owned up to Alphard's mistake or not. His mother lost some standing and his father lost some power. Their sister, Walburga, who had never been able to take a slight, grew in temper every time someone whispered around her. And Cygnus thought he was going to lose his chance to marry Druella Rosier. He didn't. Whether she truly believed that Alphard hadn't committed such treachery or if she simply wanted to marry Cygnus, the fact remained, that she didn't break the promise of marriage even though she could have.

* * *

After the scandal, he decided it was only right for him to take her out. After all, this seemed more real by the minute. So he went with her to Hogsmeade utterly unsure what she would be like. Of course he was in the same year as her but all he knew from that was that she tended to keep quiet in lessons; he didn't know whether she was idiotic or smart. He didn't know what she liked or disliked or anything. And he found her to be polite and quiet but smart, when she wanted to be. She, unlike his family, was unintimidating. And Cygnus loved the difference. He loved being able to have a conversation instead of forced to listen.

* * *

He didn't like mess and neither did she. If things could stay exactly the way they were that would be lovely. If things could get better without fighting or war or disaster and heartache then that would be absolutely brilliant but unrealistic. Both options were unrealistic. Like him, she hadn't been a fan of the Chamber of Secrets opening or the war Grindelwald was raging because they were too obtrusive and gross. He stood on the side and he realized he loved that she did too.

* * *

Cygnus's cousin Orion had been cast from the same mould as Walburga. The only difference was that Orion had a sense of humour and Burga didn't. Cygnus would not have doubted any seer who told him Burga and Orion would kill each other within a month of being married. They were always at each others throats, always putting each other down, and always out for blood. He sat at the front table on the day of his wedding, his new bride beside him, watching as his sister and Orion fought, yet again. He turned and raised his eyebrows at Druella and she shrugged before rolling her eyes, her pretty blue eyes. Cygnus knew love and understanding were not the important parts of his marriage but he was going to like having them; he was going to love having her.

* * *

Neither of them particularly wanted children but it was expected of them and thus Druella was pregnant before Orion and Burga had even exchanged their vows, less than six months after Cygnus and Druella got married. Walburga was furious. Though she never said anything, Cygnus knew Walburga thought his wife was weak because she hadn't fought her engagement after Alphard had been rumoured to be consorting with a mudblood and because the Rosiers like the Malfoys had once associated with high class muggles centuries before. But Walburga didn't see Druella fighting through a tiring pregnancy, concluded with a long, hard birth. Bellatrix was born in the late morning nearly a full day after Druella's pains had started. They named her Bellatrix because she was a warrior and in Cygnus's mind, Druella had been a warrior to get her there. And though he never said it, Cygnus loved that Druella had given him a daughter that Walburga was both immensely proud to call family and horrendously envious that he had gotten first. For once, he had won against his sister.

* * *

Druella had two more daughters long before Walburga and Orion had their first son. The name Andromeda was picked by Cygnus's father who declared that Bellatrix was not a good name to give to a girl and he insisted on giving his next grandchild a better one. Narcissa was Druella's choice. All of them were pretty and smart and confident enough to carry the name Black. Cygnus felt like he and Druella had done their duty. He was neither the oldest nor the only boy; he had no obligation to carry on the family name. He loved that their childbearing duties were quickly done.

* * *

Starting in 1955, Bellatrix screamed, Andromeda babbled, and Narcissa cried. They would grow into more adult versions slowly but to Cygnus, that was how he would remember them. Having children had been his duty, not his desire. His wife was what he wanted, his wife was the one he loved most, she was the one who won his attention. Rarely did he pay much mind to their three girls. They didn't need him.

* * *

Like him, Druella was the youngest, the one who had never been free of older siblings watching her every step. So they took to travelling as soon as Narcissa had left for Hogwarts, returning over the summers, at least to make the appearance of dutiful parents but what more was there to do for his daughters anyway? He loved travelling with Druella though, loved her quiet comments, the looks she would get on her face, everything. And slowly, they stopped returning as much. The girls were teenagers. They could take care of themselves and Druella and Cygnus could come back in an instant if they had a reason.

* * *

Walburga had yelled at Druella after Andromeda had left. She'd insisted that it was Druella's "weak" blood that had made Andromeda become a traitor. Cygnus had thrown Alphard back in his sister's face and pulled Druella away. But he'd sat that night, staring at the wall. It was the first time it really struck him that he loved his girls but of course by then it was too late. Bellatrix belonged to the Dark Lord, Narcissa was distant, and Andromeda was flat out gone. Druella had come up behind him, softly touching his shoulder and he had turned and cried on her, realizing he had to love her to be willing to cry with her over a traitor.

* * *

He tried to bring her back. Not Andromeda of course, that was unacceptable, and she was too far gone, but he tried to get Bellatrix back. She was his daughter after all and this Dark Lord had to be as old as he was. Cygnus wanted her back before she was trapped into something as bad as the war with Grindelwald had been. But Druella was the one who told him it was too late; she was the one who understood. Her brother had fallen under a similar charismatic charm years ago, a boy named Tom Riddle, though thankfully the one who had drawn him in had gotten lost in the years. And over time Cygnus became grateful that Druella loved him enough to pull him back; he soon saw what his daughter did to those who opposed her and he wasn't sure if he qualified for an exception.

* * *

The Blacks were not known to have long lives. Cygnus knew when his health was going south. Suddenly it became harder to move, to see, to do anything. He watched as Orion, his cousin the same age as him, died early in 1979, only a month or so after his son Regulus. It was hard knowing death was coming especially when his first grandchild was coming (he didn't allow himself to count the mutt Andromeda had given birth to after she left the family, the girl he'd never seen). He'd wanted to be a better grandparent than he'd been a parent but he knew he wouldn't have the chance. But he also knew he loved Druella because she sat next to him, trying to hide her tears. Unlike Orion, he had taken a chance. He'd let himself love his wife. And unlike Orion, he would not die alone.

**I'm working on a Lily/Severus right now (pretty one-sided Severus but, you know that story). Still feel like it's missing something otherwise I would post that one instead. Hopefully I'll get around to it soon. Kind of busy at the moment with applying to graduate school and my first real (though temporary) "grown-up" job.**

**This is supposed to go along with The Call. I know a lot of people picture the Black sisters parents as being very harsh but I tended to see them as just, well, absent. I tried to explain that in here but maybe I've failed. I wanted to try and show bits of the parents' character that showed up in their daughters, especially Narcissa.**


End file.
